For two seasons now the centre of Mark Elder's professional life has been the Hallé Orchestra, and Manchester's gain is London's loss. But on Sunday night Elder was a guest with the London Philharmonic, conducting The Dream of Gerontius with immense authority and cogency. His wealth of operatic experience is no disadvantage. It may be the pinnacle of English choral music, but it is a wonderfully paradoxical summit. An intensely Roman Catholic work in a fundamentally Protestant tradition, it deliberately avoids labels such as oratorio or cantata, as if tacitly acknowledging that it is the 19th-century operatic inheritance (Wagner in particular) from which its power is derived. Gerontius is in many respects the English Parsifal, with Wagner's theological mumbo-jumbo replaced by another belief system that is at least easier to categorise; perhaps it's not stretching the parallels too far to see Gerontius as an Amfortas figure in the first part and a Parsifal-like innocent in the second.

It says a great deal for the power of Elgar's inspiration, too, that the work can have such an impact on listeners who do not share even a morsel of its theology. That musical potency was fully realised by Elder, who built the great structure in sculptural masses, correctly placing every climax, and ensuring that the transitions from one section to the next were perfectly managed.

Pauses were there when the context demanded them, yet so was the continuity: it is hard to imagine the Angel's Farewell emerging more eloquently from the preceding choral passage than it did here.

More vivid orchestral playing would have sharpened the impact further. The odd smudge and some insipid string tone deprived the textures of ideal weight. But the contribution of the LPO Chorus, with the Choir of the Temple Church providing the semi-chorus, was certainly not lacking in any of the necessary presence.

Neither were the soloists. As Gerontius, the American tenor Donald Kaash's passion and believable intensity made up for what he occasionally lacked in security. Sarah Connolly was a perfectly poised, if slightly detached Angel, and Alistair Miles was firm-toned and authoritative in the catechisms of the Priest and the Angel of the Agony.